Valentine's Vow (Avenging Lords 3)

“And have you had any success during your investigation?”

Guilt weighed heavily in his chest. “Your brother’s problems have monopolised my time. I have yet to focus my attention on prying into the suspects’ private affairs.”

“I see.” Her tone carried a hint of shame. Out of thirst or some other need, she took a large gulp of wine. “I doubt any of the ladies who meet at your mother’s house had anything to do with the theft.”

“Someone had prior knowledge of the stone. Else how would they have made a replica?” The more the questions and answers were batted back and forth, the more he felt her withdrawing from him. This was not how he envisioned a night spent sharing an intimate supper. “Which brings me back to my suspicions about Mr Cassiel.”

The mere mention of the man’s name wiped the colour from her cheeks.

What was it about the mystic that unnerved her so?

Valentine recalled the first time he enquired after Cassiel whilst in his mother’s drawing room, recalled the way Ava’s dark eyes flashed with fear. That was before she suspected him of ransacking her home. Had something happened during the seance that night? If so, there was every chance it was relevant to current events.

“Must we speak of him?”

Valentine’s heart wrenched. What the hell had the blackguard done to her?

“You said you first noticed various items missing from your home two weeks ago,” he reminded her. “That was when Mr Cassiel came to my mother’s house. Since then, a man matching his description has trailed you across town, tried to steal your reticule and has since broken into your house regardless of the fact there were witnesses.”

A shiver ran through him.

Angelo Cassiel grew more desperate, more dangerous, by the day.

“What if I am wrong, and it is not him at all, but merely someone with the same dark hair and penetrating gaze? I cannot condemn a man on a whim no matter how much he terrifies me.”

Valentine downed a mouthful of wine to calm the sudden anger that pushed to the surface. No wonder men turned to drink when plagued by volatile emotions.

“Then we will hire him for Drake’s dinner party and use the opportunity to examine the man further.”

Ava jerked her head back in shock. “We? But you cannot expect me to attend. I couldn’t. I couldn’t sit with him alone in a room again, Valentine. Do not ask it of me.”

Taking his wine glass, Valentine pushed out of his chair. He came to sit in the chair to her right. While he had purposely kept his distance for fear of ravaging her mouth like a madman, he could not comfort her from the opposite end of the table.

“I will be there with you,” he said, placing his hand on hers. Any contact always sent his stomach somersaulting. “Together, we will discover if he is the rogue we seek, and what he wants with you. If we are wrong, then we must seek professional assistance.”

“Professional assistance?”

“Hire a runner or an enquiry agent.”

She dragged her hand out from under his and gripped his fingers. “He told me things, things he could not have known.” Her eyes misted. “He told me something that plays over and over in my mind, and it scares me, Valentine.”

Regardless whether the mystic was guilty of theft or not, Valentine would throttle him for causing the lady distress.

“Remember that they’re the words of a fraud, and should be discarded without thought.”

“You don’t understand. He spoke the truth. Mr Cassiel knew what my parents wore on the day they died.” She squeezed his hand harder as the first tear trickled down her cheek. “He knew of their plans to return to England.”

Men like Cassiel knew how to extract information from their unsuspecting prey. They had a certain way of speaking that made a person divulge snippets of their life, enough for them to form a mental picture, enough for them to make predictions.

“Did he say anything else?”

More tears fell. He wanted to take her in his arms, but then he might never learn what the rogue had said to cause her so much pain.

“He said—” A sob choked her throat. She coughed. “He said that my parents did not die in the mining accident. He said they were murdered.”

Murdered?

A blinding fury forced Valentine to his feet. “Then he will pay dearly for his lies. The man has taken his theatrical farce too far.” Upon witnessing the signs of her distress, he drew her to her feet and embraced her while she sobbed until there were no more tears left to shed.